Tokens and Memories
by tearsofphoenix
Summary: "Everything had proceeded well, during the seven years since Voldemort's demise - quite well indeed until one damnable Friday evening on which all the surviving members of the Order had been summoned to Grimmauld Place" EPILOGUE ADDED.
1. Chapter 1

Tokens and Memories

By tearsofphoenix

Standard disclaimer applies: it's all JKR.

_Many, many thanks to Whitehound, who edited this new story with patient, precious care and to Lady Memory who previewed it with tireless attention._

Everything had proceeded well, during the seven years since Voldemort's demise - quite well indeed until one damnable Friday evening on which all the surviving members of the Order had been summoned to Grimmauld Place.

After their wedding, Harry and Ginny had chosen to live there, and many changes had been made to the interior of the house, which now looked very comfortable and welcoming.

Since the end of the war, the Order had scheduled regular meetings to keep each other informed of even the slightest rumour relating to their old enemies: who was trying to regroup; who was the latest to be captured… nothing, however, had presented a real danger up to that day, and everything had remained under control. Little James Sirius had been born just a few weeks ago and that was probably why, that Friday, many had been surprised to gather again for a reason other than congratulating the young parents.

Having recently begun to doubt many of her past and even her future life-choices, Hermione had welcomed the sudden call, because she could feel a strange sort of excitement about that meeting, in spite of the possible forthcoming danger. While joining the little crowd approaching the doorway, she shivered in anticipation, and the hope of changing the routine that was slowly threatening to cancel her vital dynamism grew stronger in her mind. Then, when she entered the kitchen, where as always the meeting would be held, an unexpected sight overcame even her highest expectations, leaving her thrilled and utterly surprised.

After seven years in which nightmares and rumours had been her only news of him, the dark and still-imposing figure of Severus Snape, oddly at ease in the middle of the little crowd gathered around him, stood in front of her incredulous eyes. Suddenly she felt the need to sit down, in order to compose herself; and as she stared at him, memories that had been sleeping for too long in the most hidden corner of her mind overwhelmed the young witch…

_It had been the day after Harry and Ron had won the Sword of Gryffindor and destroyed the Horcrux hidden in the locket… she was still very angry and confused about her reaction to Ron's return, so she hadn't joined the boys in their walk through the woods; instead, she had decided to stay close to the tent, reading the tales of the Bard and trying to figure out the dangers that would be part of the task that they were facing. Then, suddenly, she had felt magical ropes restraining her movements and, after a moment, a no-longer Disillusioned Snape had appeared in front of her._

"_You'll forgive this precaution, Miss Granger, but what I must tell you is too important to be put at risk by an uncontrolled reaction to my visit," he had murmured, adding Muffliato for good measure before coming any closer, "however understandable." _

_Hermione's dilated pupils showed her fear all too well, so he had made an evident effort to be kind as he explained. _

"_I'm speaking to you in the hope that your celebrated brilliant mind will be able to see past surface appearances and prejudices…" he said, and then, with a few words, he explained how his intervention had granted Potter the ownership of the Sword._

"_It was necessary for him to win it 'under conditions of need and valour' so I couldn't deliver it any other way, of course. I'm sure that you see my point. The knowledge of these facts is enough to give me some credit," he ended. _

_Up to that point Hermione had experienced for the first time what speechlessness truly meant, but now she whispered, "You could have found out those facts by spying on us or used some information given to you by the Headmaster before you murdered him, something that would allow you to discover our latest movements… Sir," she concluded, unable to restrain herself from using his title in spite of the emphasis she had put on his predecessor's role, a role that, in her opinion, Snape was now usurping._

"_I could, and I must add that you should always be vigilant like this, because this is exactly the approach you all need. Believe it or not as you please, but I've been informed of Dumbledore's requests to the three of you, as well as of the fact that no one of us actually knows the whole picture regarding his secrets … and I'm wondering if the blind faith with which we are following his plans still has a _raison d'être… _Wait!" he urged, seeing a righteously indignant reply rising to her lips. _

"_Like you, I've always respected his authority… I always did," he sighed. Then, looking at her distrustful eyes, he concluded bitterly, "But maybe his grand plan wasn't as infallible as one would suppose… since it resulted in his own death. I'm beginning to consider other possibilities, especially after having found this," he ended, and saying those words he placed in her hand a piece of parchment that he had kept carefully concealed about himself._

_Confused, Hermione read the unbelievable words written by Lily Potter: "…could ever have been friends with Gellert Grindewald."_

"_She was referring to Dumbledore, you know," he added, and Hermione noticed a slight blush colouring his sallow cheeks, while his eyes glinted, as if daring her to question why he had only a piece of a letter which, as his words hinted, he had read in its entirety. _

_Hermione suddenly realized that she knew the missing part of that missive… Harry had shown it to her during the days in which they had used Grimmauld Place as a shelter! Now that she could see how that letter ended, she began to consider the possibility that there was some truth in the recent rumours about their former Headmaster._

_Looking at Snape's forbidding expression she kept silent, though, and concealed her emotions; but she felt quite sure now about the honesty of his words, if not of his intentions, and waited for him to tell her more._

"_Don't blindly trust in everything Dumbledore said or every order he gave you…" he continued. "This is what I want you to bear in mind as you continue to help Potter… I can't reveal any more than this and I can't expect you to trust me, but do remember my advice… and, of course, do not tell Potter of my visit… even though he, obviously, wouldn't believe a word I say," he ended, while, for the very first time since she had known him, his voice had sounded less sure and intimidating, but rather almost pleading._

"_That's a lot to ask, Sir…" she muttered, and her wrinkled brows betrayed her uneasiness in the face of the wizard who, after all, had murdered the man whom he was calling into question. _

_He didn't answer but, tucking the paper back between the folds of his robes again, he raised his head as if in challenge; then, with a non-verbal spell, he released her and Disapparated._

_Dazzled and stunned, Hermione stared at the now empty space for a while, not knowing what to make of that vague advice which could have easily been a trap planned by her former teacher along with his evil master… and yet, a trap to what purpose? _

_She hadn't told the boys of that surreal encounter, anyway… thus implicitly acknowledging that telling Harry wouldn't do him any good. But she had remembered everything Snape had said, every word, so she had questioned more than ever each one of their choices, suggested the visit to the Lovegoods' house, and persisted in trying to keep Harry focused on the task of the Horcruxes… _

_She had, in the end, suspected that, of all Dumbledore's follies, the Hallows had been, possibly, the one which Snape's warning related to and, of her own free will, she had decided that in that matter she could safely follow his suggestion, especially when Harry had seemed so enamoured of the new trail. _

_Since then, she had always associated mixed feelings with her memory of that meeting with Snape, until the moment in which the whole truth of his sacrifice had been revealed, marring victory and rousing a sorrowful remorse for her own actions – or, better, for the lack of them - towards the man who hadn't survived._

Except he had… and now, still standing in the middle of the room, he seemed to have noticed her arrival without missing the emotions she was feeling.

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Everyone had greeted Snape with unconcealed emotion, because even though many had suspected for a long time that the absence of a body or of a portrait of him meant that, somehow, somewhere, he was alive, no one had known it for certain until now.

Kingsley Shacklebolt had introduced Snape's presence, making everyone aware that he had known his whereabouts all along, and this information had helped to make Snape's re-acquaintance with the little group easier.

In this way, Severus Snape came to be meeting those people for the first time in a very long while and, just as he had done with everybody else, he acknowledged Hermione's arrival with a slight nod. He didn't like to be the centre of attention, and yet he knew it was unavoidable.

But his main focus, at the moment, wasn't on anybody's emotions, not even his own; he was actually concentrating on the reason he had been unable to refuse this call, after all the years in which he had preferred to be left alone. All of a sudden he had been forced to think over the events of the past, having been diverted from his chosen solitude to find himself once more part of the secret group gathered at its old headquarters.

Seeing Hermione Granger's reaction, now, had also brought to his mind the strange meeting they had had all those years ago, and all the previous events that had led up to it.

_He had remembered how, after Dumbledore had told him about the fragment of Voldemort's soul inside the Boy, he had felt that such an astonishing and hurtful revelation had nearly erased any hope of success in a task that had been his main reason for living through all those long years of atonement. _

_Increasingly, as event after event had unfolded, showing him that his room for manoeuvre was getting narrower and narrower, Snape had realized that he had to do some research of his own, as he couldn't carry on his mission without any useful clue as to what was really going on._

_That was the main reason why one day he had gone to Grimmauld Place, along with the fact that right then he wasn't feeling like he could go back to the castle… not yet. _

_After the air battle in which he hadn't been able to prevent himself from hurting one of those whom he had sworn to protect, he couldn't face, so soon, the place in which he would certainly have to watch, helpless, as more harm was inflicted on his students during the months to come… he knew that George Weasley's wound hadn't been completely his fault, even less his purpose, but the ever-present feelings of guilt were making it very hard to resume his cool façade as if nothing had happened. Bound to his task, knowing how close to failure the events of the night before had come, he not only needed to calm his mind, but he also had to come up with a plan of his own, some independent action in which he could be something other than a dutiful puppet. _

_At that time, he hadn't yet found any references to split souls, soul fragments or whatever else could enlighten him about what the Boy was carrying inside his head, neither in any book of his own collection nor at Hogwarts, the Restricted Section included. And, of course, he hadn't had free access to Malfoy's collection, given who was currently residing at the manor._

_In the end, he had impulsively decided to make a final exploration of Black's house, collecting every scrap of useful information he could find in its Library; so he had searched fruitlessly amongst their old tomes and wandered from one room to another until, eventually, he had found something essential right in Sirius Black's bedroom. What he had discovered wasn't exactly what he was searching for, but when it suddenly appeared in front of him it confirmed his suspicions, written on the most unexpected piece of evidence._

_He hadn't come for that. He hadn't had the tiniest clue that he would find those words and that photo… but there they were, and they seemed to be a hint, a helpful suggestion meant for him and left neglected until the day in which he, and only he, would find it. _

_He hadn't reacted with satisfaction though. That unexpected find had violently stirred up the memories and the guilty feelings that he had hoped would have grown less during the years in which he had acted as a spy, to protect Lily's son. But, like a thunderous wave, they had washed over him, until it had become impossible to keep his composure. Lost in his torment, he had knelt dejectedly on the floor, unaware even of the burning tears that were trickling down his cheeks and that he had restrained till that moment._

_That day he had felt very close to losing the very last bit of the faith that had sustained his life… tired to the bone to see how, failure after failure, his existence had become a never-ending chain of useless, helpless attempts… and nothing else. _

_Then, once more, he had raised his worn-out body, collecting his emotions and concealing them in his heart. And he had hidden on his chest the ripped pieces of the letter and of the photo that he had so unexpectedly found; he didn't know whether they would become a reminder or an armour to him, yet he treasured them lovingly about his person, incomplete tokens of something that had never been his except in his delusions._

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Ending his reverie abruptly, Snape realized that he didn't really know if his warning had been effective in helping Granger and through her, Potter.

It had probably been useless; in the end, it had been something else that had made the difference, the memories given to the boy in Snape's direst hour… but whatever had happened, it was history at the moment, and he didn't blame the young witch for her old distrust, not even for the way in which she had deserted him in his most desperate moment. However, he didn't carry his understanding so far as to comfort the witch, no matter how pale she had become… much more pressing matters were at hand, and it was her turn, this time, to wait and see if trust could be reinstated and make them allies.

The Minister had started speaking, and Snape noticed that what he was saying now was clearly addressed to him: "… and the highest praise for the vital role you played in our victory! Really, your sacrifice can never be honoured enough. I'm sure I speak on behalf of all the Order when I say that at the very least we are extremely grateful to have you with us once more, Severus!"

"Hear, hear!" someone exclaimed, and spontaneous applause showed the group's full approval of the little speech just made.

Still dazed and abashed, Hermione dared glance at Snape and saw that, even if a slight flush had coloured his pale cheekbones, he had accepted the praise without being greatly affected by it. He didn't seem inclined to speak yet, and a courteous nod seemed to be the only reply he was willing to give.

In the aftermath of the war, and knowing that all his most painful secrets had now been revealed, Snape hadn't been able to face anyone anymore; so, after having realized that the precautions he had taken to survive had worked - though they had left him barely able to leave the place of his supposed death after some long hours during which nobody had come to retrieve his body - he had gone into hiding, trying to heal himself and recapture the sense of his life, of how he might live now that his task was completed. When his long convalescence had ended, he had revealed his sanctuary to just one man, and that man had been Kingsley Shacklebolt himself.

The ex Auror's skills in protecting Sirius Black when he was in hiding hadn't gone unnoticed by Snape, as well as his inner wisdom; so, since the moment Snape had searched for Shacklebolt to clarify his position, the two wizards had been in touch, keeping each other updated through an almost friendly correspondence which had, however, taken a completely different turn now that a new threat had arisen.

Perceiving the growing curiosity of the people gathered in the house, the Minister didn't dawdle and asked Arthur Weasley to introduce the matter.

"Seven years might seem a long time or a short one, depending on what happened at the outset… I for one know that there are wounds left by the war that have never been healed and never will", he said, and couldn't help but glance at his family, who had no longer been the same after Fred's death.

"However, it seems that not everyone had grown tired of fighting, since odd skirmishes have been reported and several of them don't fit the usual pattern of minor disturbances… Senior officers at the Ministry have begun to be seriously worried about them, and it seems that these incidents involve young people, strong and determined individuals who apparently have no connection with our old enemies, even though they seem to hold the same absurd convictions about the purity of the race."

"Something similar is happening in many countries in the Muggle world, too," Hermione couldn't help but comment. "It seems unbelievable, but many young people are attracted by violence and the same old evil theories are finding willing new recruits, even though it's well-known that during the Second World War the same dictators they are idolizing committed terrible atrocities which affected most of Europe and Asia."

"Exactly, my dear," Kingsley said in agreement. "However, I think that by exploiting our different roles and opportunities, each of us could really make a difference in stopping all this before it's too late. Preserving the school and our students is paramount, Minerva, and it's imperative to identify any possible activists who may be already at the school and stop them from proselytizing others while they are still relatively few, in order to neutralise their influence on the students."

The Headmistress thinned her lips and nodded while determination shone in her eyes… age and war had left their signs on the old witch, but she was still there, proud to have been called and ready to take her place once again.

"As well as this," Kinsley continued, "there is more that needs to be done, because these arrogant senseless ideas are always the same: pureblood superiority, supremacy over Muggles…

"Andromeda," he went on, looking at the witch, "teaching Muggle Studies can be useful to identify those who show little respect for the discipline and the ones who are openly intolerant, so this will be your field of investigation. Any further suggestions?" he asked, looking around, after having received the woman's assent.

George and Ronald Weasley proposed themselves as recipients – and inducers - of all the gossip going on in Diagon Alley; Bill said that he was well-placed to monitor Gringotts' customers, to see if anybody was sponsoring the groups and their activities. Only Snape didn't say a word.

Kingsley Shacklebolt resumed his speech.

"Checking the usual suspects at the Ministry – because we are not so naive as to trust that the whole matter won't appeal to those in search of power, once they find out about it – we have also found some further evidence, some symbols drawn at the sites of crimes, whose meaning still baffles us. We'll hold off from telling you the details until we know more about it. Of course, Harry, you will pay special attention to the Aurors, since it is well known that military and police corps often attract the type who's looking for an excuse for violence."

The Minister sighed and went on, this time looking directly into Snape's eyes. "But there are other ways to know more and this is where we need your skills, Severus, to have a chance at success. You already know since our previous encounter how much I loathe asking you to do this. But your role in the demise of Voldemort and Dumbledore is too great an opportunity not to use it as a bait to lure those who are reinventing the myth of power. Plus you've been in hiding all this time and people know nothing of your true current intentions."

"I've told you that I'm ready, Minister," Snape answered, interrupting the wizard briskly. "We can't afford to risk what we have all gained, and there's no excuse for wasting time by indulging in useless pleasantries."

Hermione winced at those words that had a strange echo in her memory… but, before she could wonder further, Harry protested loudly in disagreement.

"Whatever your plan is, Kingsley, it isn't fair! He has already given everything, making the highest sacrifice for all of us!" Many nodded, and nobody seemed to feel the wish to contest Harry's anger… nobody except the object of his tirade.

"Albeit that I'm impressed by your passionate defence, Potter, don't you think it would be better at least to hear what the plan involves and what my role in it will be - a role which I've already accepted, by the way?"

"Yes, and I suppose it is to be our spy amongst the 'usual suspects', to be our double agent again and be the target of all the danger and hate anyone can throw at you, am I right?" Harry counteracted, vainly trying to match the elder wizard's ironic tone. "Do we really want that? Again?" he ended, looking around.

"Not exactly, Harry; if you would please sit down, I'll try and explain why this part of the strategy could turn out to be our best weapon," the Minister finally succeeded in saying, while everybody else, shifting on their feet, felt grateful for the chance to listen rather than having to intervene.

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If Snape had known that, after the meeting, his friend and superior would have forced him to accept the added assistance and protection of a teammate, he would probably have taken advantage of the opportunity offered by Potter's outburst, and given the spectators a piece of his mind on the prospect of being associated with the particular witch chosen to provide said assistance.

Now, on the contrary, he was stuck. His new place amongst the highest Ministry ranks required an assistant, and who better than the insufferable Granger to fill that role, since she was already working there? Thinking of the occasions on which necessity would probably require them to discuss even the smallest details, sure as he was that such a relationship would involve a lot of questions and answers, he already felt an imminent headache.

But, if he would be allowed to have his way, those exchanges would certainly not be the first thing on which he would focus. Not when he had a good source to consult, before everything else.

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The signs which had been spotted, the ones to which the Minister had referred, were perhaps the symbols of the so-called "Deathly Hallows", a line, a circle, a triangle, but it was hard to be sure because each time only one Hallow had been drawn and nobody could fathom the meaning of the choice, case by case. The situation was baffling. Snape hadn't known of the existence of such a myth until the very moment of his last encounter with Voldemort, and even then it had been just the Elder Wand that had been mentioned to him.

Probably, not even the Dark Lord had known of the other two items and of the power that they carried, if owned together. Potter and Weasley had recalled how harmless people like Luna's father had sported symbols like these on medals and similar accessories, quite nonchalantly, but the Order had considered them to be just an odd coincidence, and had focused mainly on the increasing episodes of fighting or other violence.

It was just because his knowledge on the matter had been quite recent that Snape had decided to learn more about the cult of such symbols as soon as Kingsley had mentioned them; that's why a visit to an old comrade might be the way to fulfil this half-formed notion.

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"Delighted as I am to receive a visit after all this time, Severus, I'm still wondering… to what do I owe it?" Lucius Malfoy asked, greeting him with his usual condescending formality… and perhaps using it like a shield to cover his emotions, as his last encounter with Snape had been one he hadn't wanted to remember over all the intervening years, knowing what had followed it.

"I've heard that the things that you had to concede in order to make amends after your trial included allowing free access for Ministry Officers to your esteemed library, Lucius."

With a slight nod, the blonde wizard confirmed it but, from the flicker in his grey eyes, Snape could easily perceive the affronted reaction that such a demand still elicited in his friend's feelings.

"Mmm…" the other man purred. "Is this what you are now? An Officer? Or a researcher?"

"Not exactly," Snape answered without rising to his bait. "And if you cooperate, maybe I'll tell you something more about it. For now, however, I'd rather know who took advantage of that access, and which volumes they consulted…"

So Lucius led Snape to his celebrated collection and showed him the register in which he could find the answers he needed. Then Malfoy crossed his arms in what very much resembled polite impatience. Seeing that he didn't seem to be intending to leave, Snape spoke again.

"These are Ministry affairs I'm afraid, Lucius, and both my presence and my purpose here must remain private for now. There are some matters on which I'd like to have your opinion though, so if you could arrange one of those magnificent refreshments of yours, I'll join you sooner than you expect in your parlour."

The blonde wizard knew when an honourable exit was offered, so he took it with grace. Snape didn't acknowledge it, immersed as he was in the information that he was researching and about which, later, he was still reminiscing.

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So, that was how it had started, with the events of that fateful Friday … though it wasn't long before the thrill of excitement which those who had gathered at Grimmauld Place had felt at being awakened from everyday banality began to pall, as the situation started to appear increasingly threatening.

Meanwhile, working with Snape had been a challenging and educational experience for Hermione Granger. Spotting the possible sources of risk amongst the politicians, and intercepting the attempts at interference by the old pureblood families who still influenced the main institutions of the Government, had proved to be a very useful exercises in subtlety which had given Hermione Granger an increased self-confidence for which she would forever be grateful.

It hadn't been an easy partnership, of course, and she would remember forever the first occasion on which she had crossed the threshold of his office. He had been standing in front of a window and hadn't acknowledged her presence for an indefinite period of time. When he had finally turned to face her, his expression had been unreadable.

"Let's forego the pleasantries and see what information you have for me," he had said, approaching his desk with a sigh, and she hadn't been able to decide whether she should be grateful that he had been so formal, avoiding anything which might call up memories of their past, or rather displeased by his cold manners… Then, since he was completely new to the place, she had started responding to the various things that he wanted to know, until he had dismissed her by saying that it was enough for that day.

It must be said that, after their first awkward meeting and in spite of Snape's detached attitude, somehow Hermione and her former professor had established a working relationship and a productive way of dealing with their daily routine. She had learnt to enjoy their witty exchanges; he occasionally hadn't refused a break and a cup of coffee or tea. What she still didn't like, however, was the fact that he didn't seem eager to share what he was discovering, and she had been able to provoke a reaction and shake his impassiveness on only one occasion.

It hadn't been a revelation connected to the actual danger, but it had been a revelation nevertheless. Looking at his discomfited features at the end of a particularly tiring day in which their investigation had reached a deadlock, she had felt the irresistible impulse to tell him something less impersonal than the normal comparing of notes that was their usual means of communication.

"I can't expect to know how your meetings went," she had said softly, in that soothing tone till now reserved only for her dearest friends, "since I don't know exactly what you have learned from them or what makes you so disappointed. But there is still time to make further enquiries and further searches, and surely there is still hope of finding something relevant."

He had raised his chin, looking intently at her as if her words might mean more than a simple attempt to cheer him up.

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Hope.

He had always hoped; since the days of his childhood, when he had hoped to find peace and love at Hogwarts with Lily, to the most defining moments of his adulthood, when hope had changed into wishing: the wish to die of a broken heart when Lily had been murdered, and the wish to be forgiven when he had promised to protect her child…

Yes, it could be said that he had always gone on hoping against hope all through his life, until he had clung to his last hope: the possibility of finding a way to fulfil his vow and save Harry Potter, taking every precaution to stay alive in order to do so. In the end, that was what had made his own survival possible as well: a survival which he had slowly learnt to accept when he had realised that his mission had been accomplished and, therefore, there seemed to be no further reason to go on living.

Yet Hermione Granger was right: they mustn't give in after the many risks and sufferings they had survived. So, still pondering her so unexpectedly kind words, he stood up. But, before he could answer with something irrelevant and meaningful at the same time, to reassure Granger about his intentions, she spoke again.

"I know that this is off topic, Sir, but I have been wondering since the very first time we met again…" She paused, as if at a loss for words for fear of being too daring. Was this the right moment to ask him what had nagged at her mind since then?

"What?" he urged, seeing her skin flush with embarrassment. "Whatever the matter is, spit it out before you explode!"

"Well, we haven't ever discussed it, yet I can't help but ask myself: why did you visit me that day, during the war?"

Snape hadn't foreseen that question, but of course it had always been there, hanging unresolved between them ever since.

His, he remembered, had been the feckless act of someone despairing and alone, and later he had often shivered thinking that he might have endangered his cover and his whole mission that day. Hers, instead, had always been the behaviour of a faithful accomplice of her friend, and luckily her actions had been dictated by prudence and care, even then.

Eventually, just when silence was becoming unbearable to Hermione, he answered.

"Just as I was ready to leave the Forest of Dean, after the delivery of the sword, I realized that you weren't with Potter and Weasley. And I was aware of the ways in which you, more than anybody else, had always been able to help Potter to overcome danger and threats to his life, along with a good helping of luck… It seemed a risk worth trying, therefore, to approach you and warn you while you were alone. In hindsight, it was a shot in the dark, but right then it seemed a worthwhile challenge."

"Yes, but… everything was so confused, I didn't know… what did you have in mind by giving me that advice?" she went on asking.

"I wasn't sure myself… I was simply losing hope, and carrying on my mission was getting harder, day by day … I couldn't just sit and watch the three of you wandering in the forest, unable to fight danger because of lack of information, or being manipulated into facing such tasks without being forewarned…" he replied; and, in doing so, he remembered that, amongst the memories he had given to Potter, there had been also his desolate, hopeless crying while reading the letter which he had showed to Granger. In spite of its humiliating content, he had exposed his own feelings and given that memory to the Boy with the intent of both gaining his trust and warning him… exactly as he had done during that awkward meeting with the Granger girl.

The Hermione in the present was now looking at him with concerned eyes. She had never seen him so uncomfortable; therefore she gave up her enquiries and smiled gently. "I have always remembered the words you said during the war, and tried to understand… but it was only at the end that I realised that you were trustworthy. I hope I have developed into a better listener since then," she said.

He nodded.

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A new understanding had been mutely established between them. So, since that day, she did her best to be even more collaborative, and he probably appreciated such an attitude because his behaviour slowly became less cold and restrained… On a couple of occasions they even found themselves laughing together, after some poorly suppressed snickers at the expense of their colleagues…

All that must be the reason why she was missing him now, she thought. He had been absent from his office at the Ministry for more than a week, and though they still weren't completely confident or at ease with each other, surely he wouldn't have deliberately disappeared without a word about his intentions.

So… so perhaps he had been surprised and overpowered and maybe hurt… and perhaps now he was being held prisoner somewhere, if not worse…

She stopped that train of thought: she wouldn't even consider such terrible possibilities! Yet she was worried, and she didn't know what would be the best thing to do.

Hermione had been proposed to Snape as an assistant among other things to prevent just such situations from arising, but her wish to trust his judgement and actions had instead prevented her from alerting the Order, up to that moment. Snape, she considered, wasn't a clerk, with an obligation to be constantly present in the office; also, many of his investigations needed to be carried on in the real world, not just inside the walls of a room, and surely he would bring all his past experience and ability to bear on those tasks.

For all these reasons, she had begun to worry only in the last few days, but then that feeling had quickly increased, turning into real anxiety.

The witch shook her head, resolving to call Kingsley by the evening if there was still no news; then, once more clinging to the reassuring power of her daily routine, she entered the office. And there, for the second time in a few weeks, she staggered under the shock of an unexpected sight.

Snape was there, and Merlin knew how he had succeeded in getting into the room without being noticed. He seemed rather distressed; so, forgetting her self-control Hermione ran close to him, to where he sat slumped awkwardly on the edge of the chair. Then, bracing his shoulder with her hand as if to prevent him from collapsing further, she whispered: "You're back!"

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_Author's Notes: _

_The second and final part of this story will be posted very soon!_


	2. Chapter 2

Tokens and Memories

By tearsofphoenix

Standard disclaimer applies: it's all JKR.

_Many, many thanks to Whitehound, who edited this new story with patient, precious care and to Lady Memory who previewed it with tireless attention. _

_To readers: here it is! I told you that the final part would be posted very soon… If you liked it let me know what you think :)  
_

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The fact that he hadn't reacted at all to Granger's impulsive action spoke volumes about his state, Snape realized, before forcing himself to say something.

"I couldn't tell anybody anything about this mission, not even you…" he began. "Least of all you," he immediately corrected himself. "I've gained some respect amongst our enemies, and I couldn't risk losing it because of some demonstration of confidence between us."

Impulsively, Hermione interrupted his explanation, unable to wait another second to express her emotion at seeing him safely back at his place. "I was frightened, thinking that you could have been imprisoned, harmed… maybe even tortured!" she exclaimed, "I believe that if you plan to go away of your own free will, I should be forewarned. It doesn't matter what you might be forced to do, I'd trust you…"

He raised an eyebrow and she remembered, blushing, another time and place in which she had not shown such faith in him. But then:

"I know," he replied, feeling a sudden, inexplicable wish to put the young woman out of her misery. "And yet your reaction to my absence, whether it was concern or disorientation or both, will surely have helped to conceal the truth of my actions, and that was an added bonus that I could hardly dismiss. Now," he ended brusquely "tell me how other people reacted to my absence and be precise with names and with the times of your observations."

Warmed by his reassuring manner and grateful for the professional mood that his latest words had established, Hermione resumed her place on the chair in front of his desk, then opened a small notebook. As she started, quickly skimming her jottings "_That's my girl,_" Snape thought with a smile, pleased that she hadn't pestered him with further questions, and that she had accurately taken note of everything, even without precise instructions to do so. It took him a moment to notice his odd choice of words... but by then it was his turn to share his knowledge, and he didn't linger too much on that slip of his mind.

"I was in Nurmengard," he sombrely declared.

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"So, in effect those symbols of the Deathly Hallows which were scattered around so arrogantly _did _mean something, after all", Hermione commented, remembering the discussion with the other members of the Order when those signs had been noticed.

"They did, and I am glad I didn't encourage that side of the investigation. The lack of further enquiries by the Order made it possible for me to make my own without being noticed", he replied, the first hint of lightness in his voice since the moment their encounter had started.

Listening to his words, Hermione remembered that after the initial curiosity - those first doubts and questions about those symbols - other tracks had been pursued. Nobody had considered those drawing worthy of further attention, nobody had tried to understand their meaning, especially after the first raids had occurred. But that had been only an erroneous assumption, she realised, because just now she was listening to somebody who, on the contrary, had followed the trace and had even succeeded in joining the ranks of the enemy and attending their meetings.

"These people want to give a second life to Grindelwald, the first wizard in the modern age to search for the three tokens of power represented in those drawings… The purpose of these fanatics is to revive the man who was defeated by Dumbledore and murdered by Voldemort: believe me when I say that their hatred against those two dead wizards is evenly divided."

Horrified, Hermione looked at him and he sighed.

"Yes. These aren't new followers of the last Dark Lord; they detest the fact that he became more and more obsessed with his immortality instead of pursuing his goals of supremacy. They are a completely new kind of bigots," Snape went on, his worried tone giving away his difficulty in understanding and classifying the group. "After having attended their gathering, I can assure you it wasn't an easy decision to make, to leave them and come back without finding out more."

But back he was, and the discomfort that Hermione had just witnessed couldn't last. After giving a brief account to the girl, in fact, it was now imperative to share everything with the Order and focus on a new strategy, without wasting more time on brooding. Nodding to each other in mute understanding, they both took their cloaks and quickly left for Grimmauld Place.

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Later, at the meeting of the Order of the Phoenix, Snape made his report with his usual concision and coldness: predictably, the news raised the most disparate reactions, and a heated discussion followed, in which it was decided that each of the three Hallows would be safe-guarded by the members of the ex Golden Trio. Albeit not exactly happy, everyone agreed on that conclusion, based mainly on the fact that the three friends had successfully dealt with those items in the past, and had proved themselves to be trustworthy and therefore deserving the honour and the burden that the mission would entail. So, the tasks were assigned.

Ron and Harry would lead the group protecting Dumbledore's grave, where the Elder Wand rested in the great wizard's hands: though their enemies couldn't possibly know that it had been buried there, and though its Master was still and only Harry, there was always a possibility that something unpleasant might be attempted against a reminder of a man that many had learned to despise.

In addition to that task, Harry would obviously take care of the Cloak. But the real surprise had been Hermione: the girl had stunned everybody by offering to search for the Resurrection Stone, the token that, according to Snape's report, seemed to be the most dangerous of the Hallows in relation to these people's purposes, since they were hoping to summon Grindelwald with it.

Some of the older witches, especially Minerva and Molly, had instantly and strongly objected about sending the girl alone, but Hermione had cut them off by saying that a group would be more easily detected than a single person. Furthermore, there was no reason to fear that somebody else would follow her on that quest. Their enemies didn't have a clue about what was going on: an ex-student taking a walk in the woods wouldn't raise any suspicions, she had added in her most reasonable tone, the one that had infallibly worked since she had been just a slip of a girl. And finally she had conclusively silenced everyone by stating that she was, at the least, the most cautious and prudent of the Trio and the most experienced in the use of spells.

Kingsley had nodded, evidently agreeing with the young woman. Even Snape had seemed pleased by her words, and he had immediately resumed his report.

"It would have been useful to have spent more time amongst the so-called Grindelwald's Army," he had begun with his characteristic ironic smile. "But, in the end, I decided that the information I already had was too important to delay sharing it."

Reacting to his sardonic tone, the youngest amongst those gathered in the old kitchen had looked at each other sadly, wondering if such sarcasm was reserved only for the name of the new militia… or if it was a subtle, derisory allusion to the group that Harry had initiated during Umbridge's regime, that famous Dumbledore's Army that had created so many troubles for Snape when he was the Headmaster.

Anyway, the wizard had described the fourty or so people that had taken part in the assembly at Nurmengard, all covered by hoods and dressed in white robes. He had also added two interesting details: the participants were divided into smaller gangs, each one of which sported one of the symbols of the Hallows, and among them there were, this time, some with British accents - those who might otherwise, perhaps, have followed Voldemort. Listening to Snape's account and to the many details he had included, everybody came to the same saddening conclusion: some of those bigots were young and might well be studying at Hogwarts, therefore it wouldn't be difficult for them to start a treasure hunt in the Forbidden Forest sooner or later. Hermione's search therefore turned out to be an impelling priority.

Ron intervened, slightly excited by his deduction. "Perhaps, when they leave the drawings of the Hallows at these sites, it's a signature to show which one of these groups they belong to!"

"It seems the most obvious conclusion," Snape answered in a weary tone, "but unfortunately too late to be of any use."

"Well," the Minister interposed, bringing the discussion back to its main focus again. "Clearly they want to summon their dead hero and if, thanks to the Stone, they succeed in doing so in front of the black Tower of Nurmengard, it will be the start of a new war."

"It will", Snape confirmed, "and increasing numbers of those powerful purebloods whom we already identified as suspects are becoming more and more deeply involved, and more dangerous. The young recruits have accepted me because of my role in their enemies' demise, but they trusted me far too easily! They are utterly ignorant and gullible in their hate, so I'd put money on it that it wouldn't be difficult for some of those older wizards to convince them to let them take control of the group."

"Then trying to warn this group that they are likely to be made use of by some selfish, ambitious old fool seems to be our best course if we want to undermine their convictions from within", Shacklebolt commented gravely, giving Snape an intent look.

This time, however, the wizard didn't volunteer for the task and instead replied harshly, "I carried out my mission; now it's up to you to devise a plan and put it to work."

Everybody in the Order knew that Snape's peculiar traits and history had been the reason for his return and for his involvement from the outset. The wary looks exchanged between many of those present told a different story though, and he could see how all the unpleasant aspects of his double role were surfacing once again.

Snape left, his expression as always unreadable. He wished he had the time and the strength to prepare the three friends adequately… they were no longer teenagers, that was true, and surely they had gained a new wisdom, not only the courage that defined their House… but he couldn't say more than that; there was too much at stake and he had never been their most trusted advisor, after all.

He had to act quickly and develop the spell he had found during his searches at Malfoy manor without further delay.

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Exhausted after many hours spent in experimenting with an old, complicated charm that hadn't been used for centuries, Snape finally paused for a while and found himself thinking about the search entrusted to Granger, and musing about whether she would or would not be successful in finding the Resurrection Stone.

Losing himself more and more in unpleasant memories, he also bitterly considered how the past seemed sadly to repeat itself, in spite of how few years had passed since Voldemort had been destroyed: his whole life had been devoted to that mission, and now he was requested to start again on a similar crusade. Really, would he ever see the end of such folly?

But Grindelwald's new followers were young and hopefully inexperienced… He sighed. Now he was as ready as he could be, and even if he didn't know how the charm would perform once he had the real thing to work with, he knew perfectly well what strings to pull when the moment would come. He had already lived through the most instructive experiences as regarded the values and feelings at stake here, after all.

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And thus it was the Forest again.

Hermione was pursuing her task, examining the ground thoroughly and searching for something that could have been buried by soil and lost forever after all this time. She hoped to spot it all the same, thanks to the special lens made by George, even though after a while her back and her shoulders, not to mention her neck, were aching annoyingly and her self-confidence was going down. She stretched her limbs, silently cursing the book that Snape had lent her before leaving Grimmauld Place. Among other very interesting tales related to the search and to the cult of the Deathly Hallows over the centuries, she had also learned that the magical tools couldn't be summoned by using _Accio_, given their supernatural origin and the embedded power that they brought to their owner.

Actually, the most accepted theory was that, while the Elder Wand had to be conquered and the Invisibility Cloak could be lent, borrowed or received as a gift, the Resurrection Stone had to be searched for in order to be found, because something would always conceal it. Remembering how it had been hidden in Marvolo's ring firstly, then beneath the floor of his house and then in the Golden Snitch, Hermione had acknowledged that theory, and thus, sighing, she resumed the search.

The clearing where Harry had met his enemy and his presumed death surrounded the witch: if it hadn't gone missing or been destroyed, the Stone had to be here. And, finally, there it was, black and lustreless, in front of her. She knelt, almost reverently, and took the Stone in her hands. Carefully, she cleaned the dirt from it and rose, looking intently at the little thing.

"I'd rather hoped it was lost forever," a well-known voice said, startling her. Then everything went black.

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"I've told you all I know, Minister," Hermione ended, with a hopeful intonation. She still wanted to trust Snape and to deny the evidence of his latest action, of which she had been the helpless witness. But Kingsley Shacklebolt didn't seem able to give her any explanation; and, if he was aware of a second plan or of a secret strategy, he didn't say anything to her, nor did his behaviour betray the slightest clue to it.

So, she asked what they would do next, and Shacklebolt answered, "We'll head to Nurmengard, of course, since Snape told us that that's the place in which they mean to use the Resurrection Stone". She nodded, hoping that it was all part of a planned strategy of which only Snape and the Minister himself were aware – because that wouldn't be the first time they were the only ones sharing a secret – and, above all, wishing that whatever hadn't been shared might work, otherwise hell would break loose soon.

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If anyone had asked Hermione who was the wizard that, more than anybody else, best matched her childhood fantasies of fairy tales about wizards, sorcerers or enchanters, no doubt she would answer that it was Snape. Not even Dumbledore had impressed her with such striking force. The late Headmaster had been of course a great wizard and an imposing man: yet, in spite of his immense power, he had always reminded her of the vaguely distracted Merlin in a Muggle cartoon.

Nor would she ever consider Tom Riddle a worthy rival: the Dark Lord's unpredictable mood and emotional behaviour had ended by making him the caricature of a villain, in spite of his true evilness.

Yes, Snape would be the answer to that question, and not only in these recent weeks, but since the very first day she had seen him enter the classroom, capturing everyone's attention with his inspired speech concerning Potions: he had always radiated the ensnaring power of magic, and a bewitching mystery had surrounded most of his actions.

Now, under the tower of Nurmengard, Snape stood out in the middle of the white mass arranged in an orderly circle before him, his black silhouette delineated by the pale light of the moon. The crowd was evidently mesmerised by that confident, hieratic pose: Hermione herself, crouched in the darkness beyond the edge of the crowd, blinked a few times, trying to react to that suggestively hypnotic effect.

She knew that her companions would be there soon; nevertheless she hadn't waited for them to be ready. Nurmengard was located in a foreign country, and the raid that Kingsley had planned would take place without an official authorization from the local government: so it was up to the Order alone to act, and they needed to be there in total alignment.

But somehow Hermione had perceived that Snape wouldn't have the time to wait for his old companions to gather. And, despite his last dubious actions, she didn't want to leave him alone to carry out his task… whatever it was.

With a slow, solemn gesture Snape lifted the Stone, mutely offering it to the contemplation of the awed crowd, and as he turned it over in his hand the magical object seemed to react by vibrating quietly. Hermione shivered, anticipating what would follow and, at the same time, stubbornly praying that it wasn't a betrayal but a carefully studied plan… hoping in that case that the arrival of the Order wouldn't spoil it hopelessly.

A shocked gasp suddenly broke the enchantment of that mystic scene, and Hermione widened her eyes in shock as well.

The tenuous shadow of a man had unexpectedly emerged from the vibrating Stone and, though she was too far to hear his words, nonetheless she recognized him, the blonde curly hair shining through his silvery, ghostly form: just like the spirits that had accompanied Harry in his journey towards the end of his fight, Gellert Grindelwald had returned in his young and most attractive appearance, no more the devastated prisoner he was in his last days.

A stunned silence fell, so Hermione could easily hear the incredible words uttered by a man whose body had long since become ashes.

"I know what inspires your faith. In your eyes I can see the same fire that burned my own heart in my youth…" Cautiously, she crept closer, dragging herself across the sparse grass and crawling on the rough ground. She wanted to hear everything, she needed to hear everything.

In the meantime, the voice of the past continued its speech.

"I know very well how easy it would be for some of the most ambitious wizards, the ones who have already gone a long way in search of power, to mislead you and capture your faith for their purposes… hasn't it already happened, in recent history?"

A loud roar, full of fury, exploded at those words. In a blur of white, moving in unison like a medieval army in those Muggle movies that child Hermione had loved to watch, the masked people removed their hoods and took a step forward: fascinated by the unexpected apparition of their hero, they instinctively tried to get closer to him.

But the presence sparkled vividly and suddenly disappeared. Taking advantage of the astonished silence that followed, Snape lifted his wand and waved it in circular movements that created a soft light. It seemed to dance and tremble, and another shimmering, ghostly figure soon emerged from the black stone.

It was a pale, miserably frayed spectre that stood in front of the awed assembly: the shadow of the man who once had dreamed of conquering the wizarding world and then had been ignominiously defeated and imprisoned in the dark structure towering behind his shoulders, his name forever consigned to shame. But when he opened his mouth and spoke, it was once more with a powerful, resounding voice.

"There is no such thing as the Greater Good, and it took me more than fifty years to understand it and die alone in a cell! Do you really want to repeat my mistakes? Do you really want to be doomed as I was?"

In the meantime, unnoticed by Hermione and by the people attending the meeting - all totally enthralled by the incredible scene happening before their eyes - the members of the Order had silently reached the place, hiding behind the rocks that surrounded the prison. With immense emotion, Harry Potter immediately recognized the man whose murder by Voldemort's hand he had once witnessed through the visions in his mind. And when the ghost of Grindelwald disappeared once more, Harry lifted a hand to signal to his friends to wait and see what Snape was going to do or to say.

But there was no such possibility, because right at that moment the black figure in front of them swayed and suddenly fainted.

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"Silly, silly man," Hermione kept repeating, unable to conceal her anxiety while waiting for him to give some sign of alertness. As soon as the attack had started, she hadn't been able to just stay hidden and just watch the scene; she was fearing what would follow and fretting about what could happen to Snape's inanimate body in the middle of the confrontation between the Order and the so-called Army.

So, in the same instant in which her companions had left their shelters and approached the tower, she had reached him, grabbed his body and Apparated to one of the rooms at headquarters. He was breathing with difficulty and, after having sent an alarmed Patronus to Madam Pomfrey, Hermione had levitated him onto a bed, while watching him closely and trying to understand what exactly had happened.

Then the matron arrived, taking over the situation with her usual confidence. Almost at the same moment, an owl brought Hermione a sealed parchment. She glanced at it and paled, immediately offering it to the mediwitch. The older woman read it with a frown.

"Always secrets and dangers with this man, bless him," she murmured, shaking her head. "Thankfully the Minister is sending instructions."

She turned and smiled reassuringly to the distraught girl, then began to work efficiently. Soon the unconscious wizard looked better, and Poppy left them to fetch more remedies, asking Hermione to watch over him in the meantime.

Snape was resting quietly when Harry and Ginny joined them. "Everything is settled, Hermione, his idea was fantastic!" her friend announced, trailing off abruptly at the sight of the still immobile wizard.

"Wonderful idea indeed," she answered, wiping her cheeks with an angry gesture. "To almost deplete his magic with that performance!"

"How did it go?" a rough, feeble voice asked. Snape had chosen that precise moment to open his eyes, and to answer his anxious question seemed a priority to everyone. Harry immediately began to recount what had happened, describing how the young witches and wizards gathered there had been convinced by Shacklebolt's proposal for a truce, after having heard the words of warning spoken by the evoked presence of Grindelwald.

Hermione felt a tangle of emotions burn inside her chest. What Harry had just described seemed unbelievable to her, but of course it must be true, given the enthusiasm with which her friend was going on speaking. For a moment she wondered about the truce that the Minister had negotiated, and was about to ask at what cost those extremists had agreed to it. It might well be that Kingsley had been forced to make difficult concessions, and she envisioned possible forthcoming problems in maintaining what had just been gained.

She was dubious about voicing her concerns out loud, though, especially since the last thing that she wished at the moment was to upset the man who, in spite of his weariness, was listening to the news with evident contentment.

Harry was ending his report, meanwhile.

"And now that the worst has been averted, Hermione, we'll also be able to put a stop to the plots of all those types who were already starting to manipulate these people; and it's all thanks to the information that you and Snape put together during your work at the Ministry."

Ginny, who was eager to resume the old routine and who had also noticed the peculiar quality of her friend's distress, intervened. "There'll be plenty of time later to find out how that little 'show' at Nurmengard was arranged, and to discuss what we do next. Let the Professor rest for now, Harry."

"Silly man," Hermione repeated in a whisper, staying close to the bed as the couple left the room. A hand, albeit weakly, grabbed her wrist.

"And since when, pray, did I give you permission to address me like that?"

"Since the moment you decided to do everything all by yourself, at the risk of your life! No, don't try to stop me, you're too weak to argue," she replied, and blushed immediately after. Then, realizing that he was still at her mercy, though probably only for another few moments, she decided to go on.

"How did you conjure that presence through the Stone before the gathering, how did you convince him to speak like that? And how did you make him appear in two different shapes? I can't even imagine what it must have cost you, to argue your case with the spirit of such a powerful Dark wizard and be almost touching the realm of the dead for such a long time… Don't answer, I already know! You must rest, now."

She took a deep breath, trying to calm down her overexcited feelings.

"As soon as Poppy arrived to examine you, Kingsley sent her the notes that you gave him at the last minute before flying away, so we could give you the proper medical care, and I could see…" she ended, without making any effort to conceal the sadness that had replaced the righteous fury with which she had started.

"Miss Granger," he said firmly, seeing that after that tirade she no longer held her head up to look at him. "Hermione… It worked, didn't it?"

"You heard Harry say that it did," she muttered.

"Why are you so worried, then?"

"I don't know… someone has to remember you, though, and not just with another round of posthumous praise."

He chuckled, then coughed convulsively.

"Here, drink this and don't speak. I've already said how Griffyndor you've been, haven't I?"

He arched an eyebrow, but kept silent. After a while, unable to do the same, she spoke again.

"You won't disappear again now, will you?"

He didn't answer, and Hermione wondered if she had been too daring. But, unlike him, she couldn't keep her mouth shut for too long.

"Our work at the Ministry wasn't that bad, you know? And… and there'll always be a need for that kind of intelligence."

His eyes were closed, perhaps in exhaustion, but she knew he was listening and she continued quietly. "They will always be in need of you." She hesitated, then dared again.

"Not of your stupid suicidal ideas, though." Oh, well, she would say it even if he weren't actually feigning sleep and wouldn't hear it.

"Just of you."

And while she was about it… "And you were magnificent in front of those people, anyway."

Another pause.

"All in all, we were a good team, weren't we?" she ended, fidgeting with her hands tightened in her lap, feeling like the student she had been, no matter how many years had passed.

He slowly opened his eyes and looked at her hopeful gaze.

Something melted in his chest, as he realized that she was actually being caring, forgiving and understanding, since she hadn't even mentioned the rude way in which he had stolen the Stone from her, without giving her the slightest clue as to the meaning of his actions.

"Where's the Stone now?" he suddenly asked.

"The Minister has taken care of it, and it will become another forgotten item in the pile of those things which will be hidden forever among the other mysteries at the Department."

"Mmmm, then it would be wise to follow your advice and keep an eye on the Ministry, constantly," he commented, while a hint of a smile was clearly recognizable in his voice.

"Together?" she whispered tentatively with unconcealed, unmistakable trust.

"Together," he agreed, sighing dramatically, "if you cease this nattering and return to your usual sobriety."

"I'll leave you to rest, then," she replied, smiling, and made a move to stand up.

In spite of his words, he was glad to have her there. He stopped her by grasping her hand less feebly than before and, with a slight hesitation, "Hermione," he began. "Thank you. It has been nice, for a change, to be rescued in such a timely fashion."

She smiled widely and took the hand that was still clasping hers, enfolding it between her palms and whispering between her joined hands, as in the softest kiss, "Take care."

"I will," he whispered back, maybe just to himself, closing his eyes. He didn't know if she was still there, close and listening, or out of perception. He was treasuring a feeling of strange happiness. His hopes had been frustrated so many times in his life… And he knew the disappointment, to say the least, to which each of the objects of his hope had always turned. But he felt certain that the warmth that was spreading from his fingers to his chest wouldn't deceive him, not this time.

Yielding to the increasing, soothing torpor that was washing over him, he remembered how he had learnt to take the development of events into his own hands, since that first impulse all those years ago which had led him to trust a young witch in a lonely forest and he felt confident that, from now on, there would at last be something more than just hope in his life.


	3. Chapter 3

**Tokens and Memories: epilogue **

By tearsofphoenix

_Some time after having completed the actual story this little epilogue popped out, and it was nice to see how things developed towards the happy ending they deserved. If the tale is clear and enjoyable I must say my grateful thanks to my great friend Whitehound who polished my errors this time, too..._

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"We have always shared your wish to defend and preserve our Magic and our world, as it is stated in the International Statute of Secrecy. We don't need to be enemies anymore: in fact we can work together towards the same goals. What we are offering is something that would help to keep peace and order, so there won't be any need for violence in order to maintain it."

Hermione hadn't actually heard that inspired proposition, she hadn't been there when Kingsley had announced that offer the night on which Grindelwald's Army had been won over. During that momentous time she had been at Grimmauld Place, worrying about Snape's health, and it was only later that she had seen the scene in the Pensieve, looking at Harry's memory concerning the conclusion of the struggle at Nurmengard.

Nearly a month after that night, she was remembering all that had resulted since then. She had returned to her previous job at the Ministry, and now she was comparing her current routine to the brief period in which she had been assigned the peculiar task of being Snape's assistant. She was finding her present situation even more boring than it had already seemed to her before their adventure.

If she was honest with herself, however, she had to acknowledge that there was a new quality to her dissatisfaction. She didn't just miss the different role, and the excitement it had given her during the times in which she had been investigating the impending danger: what was missing was the work with Snape. In fact, she missed him.

She was wondering if, or how much, he too would miss the daily interaction that had been their constant occupation during recent months, when the object of her thoughts appeared at the door, unexpectedly.

And, as ever, he went straight to the point.

"There's been some trouble in Hogsmeade, Hermione" he started briskly. Noticing her alarmed blink, though, he added with a calmer tone: "Nothing really worrying, no fights as far as I know, yet. It's just something peculiar which has shown up in all the shops on the High Street… However, I was thinking of having a look at the site myself and, if you could spare some time to come with me, your presence and your expertise would be appreciated."

Hermione knew that what he was describing had to be related to his current job, which had changed after the truce with the disbanded Grindelwald's Army which she had been thinking about a few minutes earlier.

Some members of it, in fact, had accepted an offer to become part of a new branch of researchers at the Ministry: there was always a requirement to preserve Magical knowledge and a need for the staff to carry it out, and these people would do so with zealous enthusiasm. Those who, on the contrary, were less inclined to study and more apt to action had been nominated as wardens at all the most famous sites of their world. And Snape was in charge as supervisor of both groups and their activities.

"Give me a few minutes" she answered and, after a quick check of her desktop to be sure she was leaving everything in order, she took her cloak from the rack.

When she was finally ready to leave, she looked at him for further instruction, and his pleased smile did not go unnoticed.

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Severus Snape had recovered well from the magical exhaustion which he had suffered at the end of the first adventure which he and Granger had shared… or, rather, he supposed that it was the second one if you included the war in which, even if not exactly friends, they had at least always been on the same side.

Now he was feeling healthy, and he was willing to admit that the new task that Shacklebolt had given him suited his wish to be away from the Ministry and from its bureaucracy.

Everything was going well, or so it ought to be.

When he had been able to do so safely, he had left his convalescent's bed at Grimmauld Place, made his farewells greetings and promised everyone in the Order not to become a stranger again, later.

He knew in any case that he would meet many of them now and then, especially Kingsley and Hermione, given the job that had been assigned to him. After some weeks he had noted how scarce even brief chance meeting with them had become, though, and his thoughts ran often to the young woman, wondering what her feelings for him might be.

During the time of their partnership he had become certain of her concern and her solicitude, and after his first reaction of disbelief in the face of such interest he had learnt to accept it. He had continued to notice and to appreciate it during the occasions of their more recent fortuitous encounters, too.

He had become used to see the change in her expression when she looked up from her work and spotted him, just arrived on the threshold of her office, or the way in which she seemed unable to conceal the bright smile that she seemed to reserve for him alone. He had become accustomed, indeed, to her blush and to her babbling, that followed their greetings and that he never failed to tease her about…

Waiting for her to follow him, and seeing the eagerness with which Hermione had stood up, now, he had smiled, quite pleased. "Wait" he said, then, making her halt, "Don't you want to know first what has happened and why you should come?"

"I thought that you could tell me on the way out of here, before we Apparate," she answered, showing some disconcertion, since earlier he had seemed ready to depart in a hurry.

"Well, we can do as you say, but possibly you'll want to look for a book or two before we go, once you've heard what the problem is" Snape replied.

Hermione took off her cloak and put it on one arm, her interest piqued, then sat down facing him, ready to listen patiently.

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An hour later the small group of wardens in charge of the village was telling the latest news to Severus and Hermione. Still close to him, she frowned. Some runes had appeared on the walls at the back of the shops and the shopkeepers were pretty sure that those signs had never been there before.

The young guards were very upset, they swore that some enemy was trying to attack the place, and it was taking all of Snape's authority to calm them down.

"I'll go and have a look at them, in the meantime," Hermione interjected as soon as she felt that there was less excitement and therefore she could get a word in. Without waiting for Snape to comment she went out from the Hog's Head, which was where the meeting had taken place.

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Winter was coming, but Hermione knew that the reason for her shivering wasn't only that.

Hearing steps approaching she looked up, and as ever smiled at the sight of Snape. "It's not some kind of prank" she proclaimed seriously as she got to her feet. "And those signs definitely weren't carved by Muggles," she added.

"I'd supposed the same, but it seemed worth asking for a second opinion", he commented, matching her tone.

"I could investigate further and take some more effective action than the tracing spells that I've tried up to now, but we must talk with Kingsley before making any decision" she went on, unable to conceal her trembling.

He murmured his assent then, louder, exclaimed: "Why didn't you cast a warming charm? You're going to catch a cold, here, let's go" and, without further ado, he put his arm around her shoulders in order to Apparate together to a warmer place.

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When they had landed in a room unknown to her, Hermione, still close to him, whispered: "I cast only the detection spells and nothing else because I didn't want to risk damaging any evidence… to give you the answer that you didn't wait to hear. But I guess I shouldn't complain about being whisked away, since I once carried you without asking permission, too", she ended with a light tone.

Then, looking at his flustered face she went on, "Is this your house?" He nodded, and watched her taking notice of their surroundings, before looking at him again.

"After having heard the details of this new problem from the wardens I've given some thought to the whole matter, Hermione" he began, once they were comfortably settled in his living room. Hermione didn't comment, instead showing a quiet, and he basked for a moment in the warm feelings that her trust elicited in him.

"We must report back, and the Aurors will start an investigation, of course. What if the runes were carved by one of the Grindelwalders, to cause trouble or to demonstrate that they were right to plan a pre-emptive strike in defence of our world?"

"It is a possibility, yes… The lettering is archaic and I would need more time to make a complete translation, but when I said that it didn't seem like a prank to me, I meant that what I have been able to understand so far suggests that the runes speak of dangerous matters…" Hermione replied, serious.

She was remembering how difficult had been even the few meetings she had had with some of the ex Grindelwald's soldiers: those youngsters - because, yes, they were all very young, since the majority of them had just finished school - hadn't been pleased to deal with a Muggleborn, to begin with…

"I don't think that it will be necessary for you to have any further involvement in this matter. Well, I don't think that _we_ have to confront this challenge, at any rate," he said, firmly. Seeing her puzzled reaction he went on, explaining.

"When I say 'we' I mean, precisely, you and I, of course. I know that you are curious, now, and eager to help, but if someone has to deal with these over-excitable people that will be me, not 'we'. And certainly not you, in case my suspicions about a few of them should turn out to be right. The others did their duty when they reported to me, after all, and I think that with their help it won't be difficult to find the truth."

She saw his point, and yet something still nagged at her.

"Of course you are the best judge on how to deal with them, and if you say so… You don't want me to translate the signs thoroughly, then?" she asked, a slight annoyance in her tone.

"Well, if you wish to translate it that would be greatly appreciated, and it would be helpful to have more hints on the possible authors of the runes... But that can be done in the office: it doesn't mean you have to involve yourself in the field-work. You didn't seem comfortable out there, and some of them won't be comfortable talking to you either, if their attitudes are as I fear."

His words seemed to suggest that he might somehow want to get rid of her, and Hermione felt stung. Of course she wouldn't show him openly how much his decision had disappointed her.

"I see," she answered regretfully. "Pity. It was good, for a few hours, to work together again." She moved to get up and go, but he stopped her by touching her arm.

"Am I to understand that when you said that you would like to work together you really meant _work_, then?" he asked, without concealing his disappointed tone.

She looked even more disoriented than she had before.

"Who says that we should meet just for work reasons? I've missed you, these past weeks, and I don't mean the dangers and the adventures we shared," he eventually mumbled, blushing.

Her shocked expression was priceless.

"I didn't know… Merlin, you are always so restrained… Of course I haven't just missed the teamwork. I've missed you… _you, _you silly man!" she exclaimed.

"Then," he replied, already recovered from his bout of candour, but still determined to go on, bluntly, until courage supported him, and serious in spite of the light sarcasm that coloured his following words, "all the more reason to leave to others the honour of being the saviours of our world, this time, while we make up for lost time - as well as doing something about your persistent habit of giving me names."

"Absolutely" she commented, nodding heartily in agreement and blushing.

She wasn't completely oblivious to the new trouble and the worrying possibilities that the weird, sudden appearance of the runes implied. But for once it didn't seem as if the world would stop turning around without their intervention, at least for a while. And she felt that, after that revealing moment, perhaps it wouldn't be difficult to convince Severus that he needed her presence, too, as he faced this new challenge. She surely wouldn't leave him to face danger alone.

For the third time in his life, he, for his part, considered the benefits of taking matters into his own hands, and acting accordingly. Approaching the woman in front of him, fondly, he lifted her chin and searched her eyes for the confirmation and the reality of what he had been hoping for for some time.

He found it, and even more. He traced her lips with a finger, slowly, and she parted them, shaking a bit until he finally murmured: "I didn't know that I could still feel like this Hermione, and I couldn't be sure I hadn't misunderstood your care and your feelings. I don't have much practice at this kind of thing, as you probably know. But I meant what I said."

"I wouldn't have expected for this to happen either," she answered, "but it has and it's real. And of course everything else can wait" she added, but then she could hardly finish what she was breathing when he dropped his hand and, coming closer, put it on her waist, drawing the woman to himself. His kisses put an end to any further conversation, then.

And that was why, from that moment, neither of them any longer considered the infamous fateful Friday on which everything had begun to be a damnable one…

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_Reviews are welcomed and greatly appreciated…_


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